4. Piper
4
PIPER
The movie contains just as many head explosions, robot lasers, and cameltoes as I remember. By the finale, I've managed to scoot much further into Ant’s personal space. My shoulder against his chest, our thighs pressed together, his fingers gently grazing up and down my arm, sending little chills across my skin. It’s so supremely warm and comfortable that I’m disappointed when the credits start to roll. I’m not ready to move.
Ant doesn’t budge an inch, except for his thumb still sliding up and down my arm.
When the overhead lights switch on, he winces, and lifts a wing to gently shield his face.
“Oh crap. Does that hurt your eyes?” I ask.
“It’s fine,” he says.
“No, it’s not. Let’s get out of here. Okay?” I slip my hand into his and tug him toward the clearly marked ‘exit’ door that leads down a flight of stairs and into the alley behind the movie theater.
His shoulders visibly relax when we step into the darkness. The cool night air hits me, highlighting that any traces of alcohol in my blood are gone. All that’s left is the two of us.
“Better?” I squeeze his hand once.
“Much, yes. Bright lights can give me headaches.” He looks down at our still intertwined fingers and then at my face.
It’s really, properly late now. The bars are closed; there are no more movies, or tacos, or excuses. Just me and the Mothman, alone in a dark alleyway.
“Thank you for coming with me.”
“Thank you. For spending the evening with me.” He leans in. This is it. I nervously shove my glasses up my nose even though they haven’t slipped.
The best way to get over someone is getting under someone else. I step toward him, hoping he will take the hint. It’s now or never, and I really need him to make the first move. I don’t think I can do it.
“The evening isn’t over yet, is it?” I slip my spare hand into his empty one. Letting all of our fingers intertwine casually, enjoying the feel of him, and looking forward to feeling more of him.
“It doesn’t have to be.” He smiles. Expectant butterflies battle in my stomach.
When was the last time I felt this nervous, this excited or enthusiastic about kissing someone? The last time I felt like if someone didn’t put their mouth on mine in the next three seconds that I would explode?
“Can I kiss you?” He asks.
“Fuck, yes. Please.” I can’t get the words out fast enough.
He dips down and tentatively presses his mouth to mine. Light, tender, gentle. His mouth arms graze my cheek. He pauses, like he’s waiting for something. I drop his hands so I can loop my arms around his neck. This encourages him. There’s a small press at the seam of my mouth, my lips part instinctively. His tongue slips into my mouth. It's long and slender, slippery, like a curling tube. It's odd, nothing like a human tongue. He tastes sweet almost like honey and bourbon. I suck on his tongue experimentally and he grunts in excitement. His hands move to my waist, a possessive grip holds me still while his mouth toys with me, using playful easy movements that build a heat deep in my stomach. He’s absolutely perfect.
My hands find their way to his chest, broad and defined. There’s that quiet vibrating purr again, reverberating deep beneath his ribcage. It shoots straight to my stomach and sinks lower, lighting up every inch of my pussy this time. He doesn’t have to pull me closer. I'm already drawn toward the heavy purr in his chest.
I push into the kiss, encouraging him, and the hum in his chest grows louder. His tongue delves a little deeper, the tip latches onto my mouth there’s suction, from just his long tongue. Precision attachment. A little moan erupts from my mouth.
There is a warning grumble in his body. His wings flare and move us until my back hits the wall and we are making out like lovesick teens. It isn’t funny at all, but a nervous snicker still sneaks between my lips.
He pulls back as I try to silence my giggles, watching me with shining eyes. “Something funny?”
“No. Sorry, sorry,” I shake my head, and try to hold him close. “I’m just enjoying myself.”
“Do not apologize for your laugh, Piper Hamilton. I find it utterly intoxicating.” The purr in his voice is almost a growl and his hands circle my ass. I squeal as he easily lifts me, my legs naturally wrap around his hips. Cool fall air hits my legs as my skirt rides up. His body slips neatly between my thighs. I shift so I can push my pelvis into him, there's something boney and decidedly not erection-shaped between my legs, but the friction still sends delicious sparks through me.
He presses light licks and kisses into my neck while I giggle and clutch at him. His hips move to grind into mine, the pressure on my clit is so good that I moan.
“You make such beautiful noises.“ His breath brushes my neck and my whole body heats. “It’s been a wonderful night. You are like a perfect dangerous flame, Piper. I—” He stops himself mid-syllable and releases a sigh so ragged that it sounds painful. “I’m not going to let you go home alone tonight.”
“I don’t want to go home alone tonight.” I laugh with one breath, but feel myself hesitating in the next. I need to do this. I can’t back down now. “You could take me back to your place.”
He twitches, his hands tightening around my ass briefly. I fist my hand into the fur around his neck.
“Was that too forward?” I shake my head. Colin was never a fan of what he called my ‘too-much gene’.
Ant stops my head moving with a light touch to my chin. “My flame, I would love to bring you back to my nest.” His wings flutter behind him when he says the weird little nickname he’s chosen.
I bite my lip before asking, “It isn’t a literal nest, is it?”
“It’s an apartment.” He’s grinning. “On the waterfront.”
“With a Super Nintendo?” I joke.
“With every video game console you can imagine.”
“Perfect. I am going to kick your ass at Duck Hunt .” I tug gently on his furry cowl and he growls.
“You could try,” he challenges.
I laugh.
His grip shifts and suddenly he’s supporting my weight away from the wall. “Ready?”
I nod enthusiastically, wrap my arms a little tighter around his neck, with a little jump, we are airborne again. This time we're pressed front to front. I squeal when we leave the ground behind, tightening my arms around his neck, and there’s a satisfying laugh from him in return.
His home is in the industrial area of the waterfront. The outside looks like every other warehouse on the block, except for a large cement fire flower sculpture in the minuscule patch of grass that constitutes his front yard.
The inside of the building is wide open, with concrete floors and ceilings so high they disappear into the darkness above us. The space is dim, I assume to accommodate his eyes, with moody colorful lighting scattered around; as my vision adjusts I notice twinkling fairy lights strung high toward the ceiling, almost like stars.
Even with the massive open space, there are neatly cordoned-off living areas. Cabinets stretch along one wall, with a large butcher-block island for food prep designating the kitchen. The boundaries of the living room and bedroom are indicated with layered carpets. There’s a huge couch, and an even bigger bed, all visible from where we are standing near the front door. The plush furniture makes everything feel cozy and lived in.
“Wow…” I admire. “Lots of space.”
“I like to spread my wings.” They unfold as he says it, stretching out slowly. Watching the movement makes my stomach swoop. He gives me room to explore, leaning against his kitchen island while he watches me circle his home. All the little nerves in my body flare. I shouldn’t have let him set me down. I shouldn’t have stopped touching him.
“This is like… a whole warehouse?” I ask. “Are you rich?”
He shrugs. “I got a good deal on it.”
He shifts on his feet, his heavy gaze follows me as I give his bed a wide berth and pause beside his desk to admire his computer. It's a custom build, with multiple monitors, LED backlighting, and an adjustable height desk. It’s one of the largest and most impressive setups I’ve seen in real life.
“Oh, sweet machine!” I lean in to investigate, but the screens are all turned off. “Gamer? Programmer?”
“You really want to know?” There’s trepidation in the question, his antennae curl toward each other. Cute.
I shake my head. I would love to know, but at this point I think it’s better if I can’t get more attached to him. “No, never mind, no details.”
“Whatever you want, Piper.” He reaches up to his head, pulls the plastic Spock ears from his face, and tosses them to his counter. He doesn’t actually have ears, just feathery protrusions on the sides of his head. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” I murmur.
“A snack?”
“Maybe some water?” My throat feels slightly sticky.
He crosses to his fridge, and I can’t bring myself to speak while he pulls out a pitcher of chilled water and pours it into a glass. His antennae sway above his red glowing eyes, his wings open as he stalks toward me. He hasn’t looked quite so wonderfully inhuman as he does now. It feels like I’m being hunted. Is this what it felt like to be a prehistoric human a millennia ago? Huddled around a campfire and wondering about the things stalking them in the dark? How did they not constantly cream their jeans?
When he is close enough to tower over me, he hands me the cup. I’m embarrassed to see my hands trembling slightly as I reach for it.
“Are you alright?” His warm fingers brush mine as I take the cool glass.
“I’m great!” I chew on my lip, knowing that’s not making me seem more at ease. I quickly down the drink, the cold water is harsh contrast to my hot nervous throat.
He’s staring down at me, all tall, and mysterious, and sexy. How did I manage to get this far? Every step of this journey has been completely out of my element. And now he’s just staring at me. What’s he even looking at? Do I have a booger? What’s he waiting for? Why doesn’t he make a move? Kiss me again? Grab a boob? Men usually just go straight for the boobs.
He can’t possibly have changed his mind this fast. I never should have let him stop touching me. I should have taken off all my clothes the second we walked into his home, and thrown myself at him. I should have taken off all his clothes.
His hands flex at his sides, and I realize neither of us has spoken for several moments. This is my chance to seduce him with something sexy or smart or funny.
I take a deep breath before blurting, “Where’s your bathroom?”
He points to a door near the kitchen.
“I just need to freshen up.” I cringe saying it, and force a smile as I flee to lock myself in his bathroom.
I stare into the mirror above the sink for a long moment. What am I so nervous about? I’ve had sex before. Not really casually, not in a huge expensive loft, and not with a Mothman. Surely the mechanics are mostly the same.
I think I might be nervous because I actually really like him?
Which is silly. This was supposed to be low stakes, no fuss sex. I’m only here to get over my ex. It’s not going to be anything more than that. We just met tonight. It’s ridiculous to be thinking about a new relationship already. Even if it's with someone who seems really sweet and kind and into the same things I am.
I clean off my glasses with his towel. Clean hand towels? Does he secretly have a girlfriend? Single guys don't do that.
I open and close all of his bathroom cabinets. Not looking for anything in particular, just hoping they might offer me some form of clarity. All I find are neatly organized toiletries. No signs of a second person living here. It seems like we use a lot of the same brands, but there are a few things that I don't recognize. I pull one bottle out of his shower and sniff it. Yep, there is his vanilla scent. The smell has me slightly calmer. I carefully return it to its spot on the shelf, memorizing the label, just for future information.
I came here for a reason. Casual sex will be good for me. Even if my stomach flips excitedly every time Ant looks at me for too long.
I slip off my kerchief and undo the buttons until the front of my shirt hangs open completely. I’m just wearing my classic, practical, nude bra. It’s not fun sexy lacy underwear. When I left the house I wasn’t expecting to show it to a stranger today. I drop the shirt to the ground and turn to the side to examine myself in the mirror.
It’s a level of nudity no one except Colin has seen from me in a long time. I know my breasts are good. They are large and full, and even if my middle has always had some squish, and my butt has some cellulite, I’ve never had any complaints about the ladies ? ? 1 . If they don’t get me laid, then I don’t know what will.
I rearrange my hair, piling it on my head in different ways, until I am satisfied that it looks acceptable. There's not much else I can do. Not enough time to do a million crunches. Or suddenly develop body confidence. He'll have to take me as I am.
I take a deep breath before I open the bathroom door.
1 ? Except from my back muscles.